


And The World Will Burn (hannigram)

by Mooneyarchives



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Altered Mental States, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Knifeplay, Light BDSM, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Murder, Murder Husbands, Partners in Crime, Psychological Trauma, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Psychology, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Therapy, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29043030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooneyarchives/pseuds/Mooneyarchives
Summary: Will has always had a particular fascination with Hannibal, a fascination that was returned. “Is Hannibal in love with me?” - a question he already knew the answer to. Hannibal has a quality about him that makes him almost irresistible, and Will is well aware of that. For a long time he tried to resist temptation, but as he soon learned, resistance is not his strong suit. What happens when you give into Hannibal completely? What happens when Hannibal is allowed to do anything he pleases?
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger, Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 12





	1. Please

**Author's Note:**

> This entire chapter is pretty much just smut. Have fun :)

“Do you often feel this way, Will?”   
“What way may that be, doctor?”  
“Empty”  
“One does not feel empty, one is empty - until one is not”  
“Are you empty, Will?”  
“Yes. But it’s different now, isn’t it?”  
“How is it different?”  
“I can’t be empty with you around. It’s like you’re a ghost possessing my body. My life is split into two - what it was before Hannibal, and what it is after Hannibal”  
“That was the intended effect, yes”  
“I’ve stopped trying to resist you”  
“Is that so? Show me”  
Will took a pause, staring into the fireplace. Hannibal stood up from his desk and took a few swift steps towards the man, stopping right behind him and placing his hand on Will’s shoulder. He didn’t feel the need to repeat himself. They stayed this way for a few minutes - Will staring into the fire, and Hannibal at Will. “Hannibal?”  
“Yes?”  
“Where are we?”  
Hannibal's hand slipped from Will’s shoulder - he went to check his watch, “My office. Baltimore, Maryland. 11:34 PM”  
“No. Where are we?”  
Hannibal thought about this for a moment, but ultimately decided it was best to stay silent. Will shook his head in frustration and whirled around to face the man, his hand found its way to the side of Hannibal’s neck, he took a step closer. His eyes met Hannibal’s - neither dared to breathe. “Show me, Will” - whispered the man. Will’s thoughts raced , and his heart pounded loudly enough to replace all other sound, he was practically frozen in place - until he wasn’t. Strengthening his grip on Hannibal’s neck, Will pulled him closer - their chests colliding, “fine” - he breathed, smashing his lips into the man’s. Hannibal’s hand found its way into Will’s hair, first feeling the curls and then gripping them tightly. Will let himself fall into Hannibal completely, now holding onto his neck with both hands. He was angry, but desperate for anything Hannibal would give him. Hunger - he felt hunger, like a starved dog.   
Pulling Will’s head back by his hair, Hannibal smiled - “Ask nicely”.  
The frustration in Will’s stare would be enough to make anyone else back down, but not Hannibal - he kept his grip tight and waited for a response, same devilish smile playing on his lips. Through clenched teeth, Will muttered “please”.  
Hannibal raised an eyebrow, “please what? You’re going to have to be more specific”, he chuckled.   
Will bit at the inside of his cheek, his eyes fixated on Hannibal’s - “pl-please… fuck me, Dr. Lecter”, he spat out.   
Hannibal smiled - “good boy”. His grip on Will’s hair loosened, and he was now supporting the back of his head, his thumb making small circles on the man’s neck. Will gave up any remaining control, letting Hannibal support the full weight of his head, humming at the good sensation.  
Suddenly Hannibal’s hand was no longer there, and Will found himself almost tripping over onto the floor. Frantically, his gaze darted around the room, missing the man at first. “Come along now” - called out Hannibal, grabbing his jacket off the the coat hanger. “What? That’s it?”, asked Will - trying to understand what just happened. Hannibal reached for the door, “Not here, not here”.

It was cold outside, and it seemed as though it was about to rain. They made their way to Hannibal’s car, quickly getting in. “You’re taking me to your house?”  
“Yes”, answered Hannibal, turning onto the street.   
“Why not the office?”  
“A professional space, if you will”  
“Should I be afraid?”  
“I’m not going to do anything you don’t authorize me to, if that is what you’re worried about”  
“Hm, what would you do if I let you do anything?  
“I don’t think it would be wise to do that” - said the man, placing his hand on Will’s thigh and squeezing it slightly, before letting it rest.  
“I’m not one for good decisions” - Will grinned, as a way of settling his nerves.  
“No you are not. Is this okay?” - asked Hannibal, looking down at his hand.  
“Quite so”  
“Good”  
Will couldn’t help but pray that Hannibal’s hand would slide lower - to his crotch, but he knew better than to ask. Instead he let his own hand rest on Hannibal’s, their fingers intertwining. 

Hannibal held the front door open for Will before going in himself. The second the door closed, Hannibal threw his stuff on the ground and picked Will up, slamming him into the door. Will’s hunger only grew as their lips collided, his hands gripped the man’s face, and his legs wrapped around his waist. Hannibal’s hand fished around for the lock, while the other supported Will’s back. After hearing the click his hand found its way to the man’s ass - stabilizing him enough to carry. Will broke their kiss just long enough for Hannibal to get up the stairs - his arms now rested on the man’s shoulders. “You look better this way”, muttered Hannibal.   
“What way may that be, doctor?” - smiled Will.  
“Close to me”, he said - taking the final steps of the staircase.  
Will let out a small gasp when Hannibal slammed him into the wall yet again, knocking a frame to the floor. His legs gripped Hannibal closer as the man kissed along his neck, occasionally nibbling at the sensitive skin. “Please…” - he whispered between heavy breaths. Hannibal tightened his grip and made his way to the bedroom. Carefully, he lowered Will onto the bed - “Is this going to be okay?”, he asked quietly. Will grabbed onto the man’s face - “Yes”, he said - kissing him.  
“Sit up, take off your jacket and your shirt” - directed Hannibal, loosening his tie.   
Will quickly did as he was told, struggling with the buttons - Hannibal smiled at the man’s desperation.   
“You’re going to do as I say, yes?”  
Will nodded and reached for the man.  
“I didn’t hear that”  
“Yes”  
“Good boy. Now hands down”  
Will obeyed, taking a deep breath to calm down.   
Hannibal reached for the man’s chin - making him look up, “open”, he directed. Will dropped his jaw on command, Hannibal stepped closer - “don’t bite, okay?”. The question was returned with a nod. Hannibal’s thumb ran across the man’s bottom lip before going into his mouth and pressing down on his tongue. Will’s eyes began watering, and his mouth quickly became filled with saliva. Satisfied with the results, Hannibal withdrew his thumb and lifted Will’s jaw shut.  
“What am I allowed to do?”, he asked.  
Will thought for a moment - “Anything”, he whispered.  
“If you want me to stop, you will say ‘yellow’. I will not respond to ‘stop’. Do you understand?”  
Will hesitantly nodded.  
“I did not hear that”  
“Yes”   
“Good” - said Hannibal, throwing his tie on the bed and quickly unbuttoning his shirt, “Down” - he commanded, nodding toward the floor.   
Will lowered himself to his knees, looking up at Hannibal. The man undid his belt, sliding it out of the belt loops in his pants. He motioned Will to move over as he sat down at the edge of the bed - “I trust you know what to do”.  
“Yes” - affirmed Will, his hands already working on the buttons and zipper.   
Hannibal leaned back to let Will slide his pants and underwear off - “Hands behind your back”. Will obeyed and looked up at Hannibal.   
The man ran his hand through Will’s hair, before settling on a spot to grip and pulling his head back - “I stand corrected, you look better on your knees”, he smirked. Will felt blood rush to his face, but he couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride. Hannibal loosened his grip, but Will decided it was best to keep his head where it was guided - “open”. The man dropped his jaw as far as it would go, this was met with approval from Hannibal.   
“Now, keep your teeth out of the way for me” - he said, guiding his dick into Will’s mouth, and letting out a gasp when the man tightened his lips. “Good”, he muttered in between heavy breaths as Will began sucking. Hannibal’s hand was steady at the back of Will’s head, although the man could tell it was taking Hannibal a huge amount of effort to not push his head down. “Fuck-“, Hannibal moaned as Will slid his tongue down his shaft, choking slightly when the man’s dick hit the back of his throat. His eyes teared up, but he felt the pressure of Hannibal’s hand pushing him down. “Choke for me”, he whispered before letting Will back up, the man drew small circles around the tip with his tongue, earning another moan. Hannibal smirked when he noticed that the man’s eyes were red - “Good boy”, he said, stroking Will’s hair. That same sense of pride returned to Will, he was doing a good job. One more time he took Hannibal’s dick all the way down, the man’s hand gripped Will’s hair tightly, and the other crumpled up the sheets in a ball. Will wanted to let his hands grip Hannibal’s thighs, but he did not want to find out what would happen if he disobeyed the earlier command. Pushing aside his own desperation, Will kept sucking gently as he looked up at Hannibal. “Pretty boy” cooed the man, his hand now supporting Will’s jaw, his thumb wiping away the tear running down his cheek.   
“Okay you can get up”  
Will let his arms fall to his sides as he stood up, his knees weak from the harshness of the floor.  
“Come here” quietly said Hannibal, taking Will’s hand and guiding it to his shoulder. Will smiled and climbed on Hannibal’s lap, his knees at either side on the man’s hips. Hannibal held onto Will’s waist as he pulled him closer, kissing him. Will smiled against Hannibal’s lips - his hands gently cupping the man’s face. “I’ve been waiting for this, for you” whispered Hannibal, before carrying his lips down Will’s neck, “I’m here. I’m yours” - moaned Will.   
Hearing that made Hannibal stand up, holding the man close to his body, before throwing him onto the bed and climbing on top of him - sucking on his neck, making sure to leave a bruise, then kissing all the way down to his belt. Hannibal’s hands began working on Will’s pants, as he returned his kiss to the man’s lips.   
“Stay just like that”, quietly said Hannibal before standing up, leaving Will to look at the ceiling. He listened for what Hannibal was doing: a drawer opened, the man picked something up, the drawer closed again, the flick of a switchblade - Will would recognize that anywhere. Before he could theorize about what was going to happen next, Hannibal started pulling off his boots, then his pants, and finally - his boxers. The man then climbed back on top of Will, this time with a knife between his teeth.  
“Here is how this is going to work…” started Hannibal after taking the blade into his hand, “I’m going to lay you down, and I’m going to tie your hands. Then I’m going to fuck you, but if you make a single sound, I’m going to cut you. Do you understand?”.  
Will looked at the knife, then back at Hannibal - despite everything the man just said, Will felt oddly safe, “Yes”.  
Hannibal leaned in and kissed Will’s neck, sucking on a different spot to leave a new bruise, then planting small kisses all the way up his neck - eventually landing on his lips. Will wanted for that to last forever, but Hannibal eventually broke the kiss to move aside - “Okay, now get on all fours over there for me”, said Hannibal, pointing the knife towards the headboard. Will did as he was told. He felt the mattress move as Hannibal came up behind him, then he watched as the man pulled two pillows from the stack of five at the headboard. “I’m going to put these under you”, said Hannibal as he slid the pillows beneath Will’s hips. “You can relax now”, he said - lightly pushing on Will’s back until the man was lying down with his back arched over the pillows. Hannibal moved closer with his tie in his hands. Carefully, he reached for Will’s hand, laying it on his back, then doing the same with the other. “Do you remember what to say if you want me to stop?”, Hannibal asked - tying Will’s hands together.   
“Yes”  
“Good. You won’t get cut for saying that, alright?”  
“Alright”  
Hannibal leaned over to kiss Will, “Beautiful. Now spit for me”, he said - holding out his hand. The man did as instructed. Hannibal took his hand back - “Have you ever done this before?”  
“N-No” - gulped Will.  
“That’s quite alright, no need to worry. We’ll go slow” - he said, “You may speak for now, I will tell you when to be quiet”.  
“Okay”  
Hannibal planted a small kiss on Will’s shoulder as he slid two, spit covered, fingers inside the man. Will whimpered but stayed still. “Are you okay with this?” - asked Hannibal, slowly moving his fingers back and forth.   
“Yes, I’m okay”  
“It’s going to burn”  
“I’m f-fine” - stuttered Will.  
“Such a good job. Relax, I’ve got you”   
Will tried his best to ease his body - “you’re going to hurt me, aren’t you?”  
“Yes” - simply replied Hannibal. The honesty was somehow comforting to Will - he was getting somewhat used to the sensation of the fingers, it was starting to feel good. He let out a small moan.  
Hannibal leaned over one more time and kissed the man - “Okay now be a good little thing and stay quiet for me, breathing is okay”.  
Will’s pupils dilated in fear, but he followed the instructions. Hannibal reached over to the nightstand, pulling the drawer open one more time and taking a bottle out. Will heard the click of a cap and gel being squeezed out. Silently, he braced himself for what would come next. Hannibal placed his hand under Will’s hip, supporting him along with the pillows. “Deep breath in” - he said, as he guided his dick into Will. The man took a sharp breath in and clenched his jaw as tight as he could, regardless he let out a small yelp of pain. Hannibal reached for his knife, putting the blade to Will’s thigh - “You’re not behaving”, he said - making a shallow cut. Will buried his face in his pillow, still clenching his jaw and hoping he wouldn’t whimper. Hannibal brought his hand up and let it rest on Will’s ass, the man felt the cold metal on his skin and let his breath out in relief. Hannibal began slowly rocking his hips back and forth, Will dug his nails into the palms of his hands, and frantically - yet quietly - took short, sharp breaths. “Shhhh, relax”, said Hannibal, gripping Will’s hip tighter. The man continued moving his dick in and out, slowly, making sure Will was alright. The burning turned into sheer pain - it was taking every ounce of effort in Will’s body to not scream.   
Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he remained quiet. Hannibal leaned over, placing his hands at either side of Will’s shoulders, briefly lifting one to move the man’s hair aside so that he would be able to kiss him. “You’re doing so good. Staying so quiet for me” - Hannibal whispered, keeping up with steady thrusts. He buried his head in Will’s neck - the man felt Hannibal’s hot breath on his skin, and through the pain he still felt that pride, he was the one making Hannibal weak right now, he was the one pleasing him. “Fuck…” Hannibal moaned, “you feel so much better than I imagined” - he said, speeding up his pace. Will clenched his jaw tighter, pushing his head into the pillow. Hannibal kissed his shoulders, breathing heavier with each thrust. “I’ve got you” - he whispered, biting Will’s ear.  
The pain was starting to become familiar, Will finally sensed pleasure. To avoid making a sound, he started breathing faster, but his attempts were proven unsuccessful when he let out a loud moan as Hannibal’s hand ventured to the man’s dick. “Sorry, darling” - smirked Hannibal, finding the knife and leaving another shallow cut on the man’s thigh. Will took a sharp breath in, ‘darling’ - he thought to himself. Hannibal returned his hand to Will’s dick, moving slowly but purposefully. “You’re such a wreck, if only you could see yourself” - chuckled Hannibal, speeding up his pace. Will dug his nails into his palms again, though he didn’t clench his jaw this time. Hannibal let go of the man’s dick, leaning over and kissing his shoulders, then his neck, then his lips. Will was weak, but forcefully kissed back. Hannibal buried his face in Will’s neck again, his breath was breaking up - ‘Please cum’ Will thought to himself. “Fuck…” moaned Hannibal, shifting his head to find Will’s lips, “You’re doing so well” - he whispered. Will took a few sharp breaths before kissing the man once again. Hannibal withdrew, placing small kisses on Will’s shoulder - “So close”, he moaned - opening his mouth and biting down on Will’s shoulder as he delivered the last few thrusts, letting out a sharp breath as he came inside. Will held in a scream, adding a few tear drops to the stain on the pillowcase. Hannibal kissed him one more time before pulling out, “Good boy”. The man stood up before kneeling down to Will’s eye level, gently moving his hair away from his face - “How are you feeling, darling? You may talk”.  
Will let out a breath of relief, “I’m alright, I’m okay”  
Hannibal’s thumb traced over the tear stains on Will’s cheek - “You look so pretty when you cry” , he smiled.   
“May I cum? Please, doctor”  
“Not yet, darling, not yet” - whispered Hannibal, his hand gently massaging Will’s head. “Come with me” - said the man, as he untied Will’s arms and held out his hand. Will slowly stood up, nearly falling to the ground - “I’ve got you”, said Hannibal, holding him up. Carefully, they made their way to the bathroom, Hannibal guided Will to the counter and let him use it as support. “Now, you’re going to bend over this counter. And you’re going to watch yourself in the mirror while I fuck you. I want you to see how pathetic you look”  
“What happens if I don’t look?”  
“Only good boys get to cum”  
“Hannibal, I don’t think I can -“  
“You’re okay, just a little more. Okay?”  
“Okay”  
“Now bend over. Put your elbows on the counter and look in the mirror. You may scream, you may moan. You won’t get in trouble, alright?”  
“Yes”  
Hannibal placed his hand on Will’s hip, steadying him - “Behave”, he said - sliding his dick into the man once more. Will let out a loud moan, momentarily losing his balance. He focused his gaze on his reflection - his hair was stuck to his face, his eyes were red and glossy, his lip was bleeding. ‘I am pathetic’, he thought to himself. Hannibal’s pace was quicker than before - “You’re so desperate, like a little whore. Aren’t you?”  
“Y-yes” moaned Will, his head dropping down troward the counter.  
Hannibal reached for the man’s hair, pulling it back - “Be a good boy and look at yourself”  
“Y- Yes, yes!” - screamed Will as Hannibal hit his g-spot, over and over again.  
“Good. Who gets to use you?”  
“Oh God, Hannibal! You do! You do!” - Will cried, tears beginning to sting his eyes yet again. He hated the way he looked, but right about now he would do anything Hannibal told him to.  
“Good. Good” - Hannibal’s breath was heavy as he leaned forward, sucking on Will’s neck and letting him take every inch of his dick - hearing yelps with every thrust.  
“P-Ple-Please, Hannibal”  
“Let me hear you scream”  
“GOD!” - Will paused to let out a burst of loud moans, “FUCK! OH MY— fucking hell, Hannibal! PLEASE!”  
The man pulled Will’s hair again, sharper this time - “Tell me if you deserve what comes next” - he spat.  
Will gripped the counter, losing his balance as his legs shook - “NO!”, he yelled - “I don’t!”  
“That’s right. Poor little thing, look at yourself. Such a pretty wreck. I’m going to let you have what you want, yes?”  
“YES! PLEASE HANNIBAL — P-Please” - Will begged through sobs.  
“Okay, now be a good whore and look at yourself”, he said - letting go of Will’s hair and slipping his hand to the man’s dick. Hannibal jerked slowly, reveling in the desperation - “I want you to cum with me, can you do that?”  
“Yes! Please! Please!” - Will was beginning to lose control of his body.  
Hannibal started going fast, each thrust only moments apart - his hand picked up the pace too - “Then cum for me” he whispered. Will didn’t need to hear much else - the man melted completely in Hannibal’s grip, unloading everything he had into his hand - before collapsing over the counter, breathing heavier than he had ever remembered. “Good boy” cooed Hannibal as he pulled out. Carefully, the man picked Will up - seating him on the counter, “Are you alright, darling?”  
Will barely had the strength to hold himself up, so he simply smiled.  
“You did so good, okay?” - asked Hannibal, holding Will’s face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. The man responded by letting Hannibal hold the entire weight of his head - “Okay, I’m going to ask you to sit here by yourself for a moment, do you think you can do that for me?”  
Will shook his head, feeling sick and exhausted.  
“That’s alright. Come here”, said Hannibal, picking him up and letting him wrap his arms around his neck, and hold onto his waist with his legs. Slowly he made his way over to the bed, carefully laying Will down. “Don’t be afraid to fall asleep, I’ll be right back” - whispered the man. A small smile danced on Will’s lips “Hannibal?”, he said quietly.   
“Yes?”  
“I love y-”, Will muttered before passing out.   
Hannibal smiled and kissed the man on the forehead before heading to the bathroom. There he got some bandages out from a cabinet, and wet a washcloth. He worked in silence - first cleaning Will off, as best he could, then placing bandages over his cuts. Tired himself, Hannibal stripped out of his blood stained shirt and crawled into bed, moving Will’s head onto his chest - and covering both their bodies with a blanket. He held the man’s hand and kissed it, before resting his head on Will’s and falling asleep to the gentle pecking of the rain on the window’s glass. 1:45 AM.


	2. Breakfast In Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long night Hannibal decides to show some appreciation for Will’s efforts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Domestic Hannigram. Send tweet.

The sun danced in the water droplets remaining on the windows from the night before, casting tiny rainbows on the walls and furniture. Hannibal stirred beneath the sheets, lazily letting his eyes flutter open. Will was still asleep on the man’s chest, cuddled up at his side, and showed no sign of waking up any time soon. Hannibal’s gaze ventured to the clock - 6:30AM, a little less than five hours of sleep, he counted to himself - he could live with that. Carefully, he shifted Will’s head onto the sheet and wiggled himself from under his arm, letting the man roll over and hug the pillow. Once he got his footing on the ground, Hannibal turned and leaned down - kissing Will on the forehead. The air was cool, and light - Hannibal took a deep breath in, as he walked into the closet. Quickly he found a pair of clean underwear and slipped on some pajama pants, before quietly sneaking out of the room.   
It was colder downstairs, and Hannibal debated going back up for a robe, but decided against it. The less he bothered Will, the better. He took slow steps, wanting to feel every once of discomfort from the freezing floors. The kitchen was bright, sunlight reflecting off the polished counters and appliances. Hannibal stretched out in the sunlight, briefly closing his eyes to let the warmth consume him. ‘Coffee’ - he thought to himself.

The clock now read 7:15AM - Hannibal cracked another egg over a hot skillet, the oil sizzling as the egg cooked. “Butter..” - he muttered under his breath, scanning the counter - “Ah..there you are!” - he smiled. The man was light on his feet - grabbing four slices from the bread box and spreading the butter on one side of each piece - before lifting the eggs out of the skillet and placing them on the cutting board. Smell of toasting bread wafted through the air - almost creating a homey atmosphere amidst the clean, close to surgical, design of the room. Hannibal paid special attention to toast the sandwiches just right - bread, egg, cheese, bread. He cut both in half, on the diagonal, before plating them.   
Two plates, two mugs, two bowls, two dessert forks, two champagne glasses of mimosas, a flower - Hannibal meticulously checked over the tray to make sure he had everything. “Aspirin….” he muttered, plucking another glass from the cabinet, and filling it with water. 

The sun had brightened the bedroom considerably since Hannibal woke up, bringing a bit of warmth to the crisp air. Hannibal quietly made his way over to the bed, setting the tray down on the end bench. His hand trailing along Will’s legs, and finding a resting place on his back - sitting down at the edge of the bed, Hannibal continued gently tracing along Will’s skin. “It’s time to get up darling” - he said quietly, now letting his hand move Will’s hair from his face. Will stirred, burying his face into the pillow. “Good morning” - smiled Hannibal. Reluctantly Will opened his eyes - “What time is it?”, he groaned. Hannibal’s eyes wandered to the clock - “7:27AM”.  
“Go away”, Will smiled - closing his eyes.   
“I brought you something”, said Hannibal - standing up to grab the tray, “breakfast is served”  
Will smiled, rolling over onto his back - wincing slightly at the sharp pain. Hannibal set the tray down onto the bed and headed toward the bathroom - “I’ve got something for that” , he called out. Shortly returning with a bottle of aspirin.   
“You didn’t have to do all this, Hannibal”  
“I suppose I didn’t. But I wanted to”, he smirked - “plus I figured you could use a little something…extra”  
Will shook three pills out of the bottle, and picked up the glass of water from the tray - “Everything hurts”, he chuckled, before swallowing the aspirin.  
“I do apologize”  
“Don’t. I like the reminder”  
Hannibal sat down on the bed, next to Will - “Is that so?”  
“Tells me it was real” - said Will, reaching for one of the coffee mugs.  
Hannibal thought for a moment, “And how would you know if this in itself was not a fantasy?”  
Will glanced at Hannibal momentarily before looking back down at his mug, “Don’t patronize me, doctor”.  
“I suppose that’s fair. Now shall we?”, he asked - motioning to the tray.  
“Egg sandwiches? I didn’t know you did - simple”  
“Well I believe breakfast is best left… breakfast” - smiled Hannibal, “Also bread tends to be comforting, I am sure you could use some comfort”  
“I half expected to be out on the porch right now, you surprise me every day” sighed Will, reaching for his plate.  
“You must give me more credit than that. Although I must admit…I don’t do this for just anyone”  
“Awe I almost feel special” sarcastically chuckled Will.  
“You are” - simply stated Hannibal.  
Will paused, unsure of what to say or do next. Instead quietly sipping his coffee before taking a bite out of the sandwich, “How did you know I have it black?”  
“I pay attention, you must know that much”  
“What else do you know about me, then?”  
“I know you’re probably going to need to stay in bed today”  
“I could’ve told you that much myself”   
“Well it happens that I don’t have much elsewhere to be”  
“Hm” - nodded Will, finishing off the sandwich half in a couple big bites. “Crap…” he muttered, rubbing his eye with the knuckles of his thumb.  
“What is it?” - asked Hannibal, a notable hint of concern in his voice.  
“My dogs. I have to feed my dogs and let them out” - he groaned.  
“That’s quite alright, I will drive you…right after you finish your breakfast, of course”  
“I thought you wanted me to stay”  
“You stay with me, or I stay with you, not much a difference - is it?”  
Will smiled, putting down his coffee cup - “You want to stay at my house?”, the idea almost seemed ridiculous.  
Hannibal picked up a champagne glass - “I don’t see why not”.  
Will chuckled - “Whatever you say”.  
“That, I will cheers to”   
The clink of glass on glass echoed through the room, feathering out into the distance. Hannibal closed his eyes as he sipped - listening.   
“May I?” - asked Will quietly, pulling Hannibal out of the trance. His eyes fluttered open - Will was looking right at him, “You may do whatever you wish”.  
“Oh-“ he smiled, reaching his hand to cup the man’s cheek - slowly trailing to the side of his neck. Gently, yet assertively, Will pulled Hannibal in - kissing him. Hannibal was cold to the touch and his stubble was rough on Will’s lips when he brushed past it, but there was an inexplicable sense of comfort about it all. Hannibal knew him without having to be told a thing - and in turn, Will knew himself better than he had ever known himself before. He felt Hannibal smile against his lips, and he smiled in return. This was good. 

“Oh no - not that”, called out Hannibal when he saw Will reaching for the clothes that had been discarded on the floor last night.   
“I didn’t exactly pack an overnight bag, what else am I supposed to wear?”  
“You can just borrow something of mine”  
“Hannibal, are you asking me to put on a 3 piece suit at 9 in the morning?”  
“Don’t be ridiculous, that’s not all I own”  
“You act like it is”  
“Just come in here, would you?” - said Hannibal, nodding towards the closet.  
Reluctantly, Will stood up - half limping over to the closet, with a sheet wrapped around him. “Okay, what do you want me to put on?” - he asked, in a tired voice.   
“I’ve got just the thing”, answered Hannibal reaching for Will’s hand and leading him to the wardrobe at the back - “Here, sit”, he said - motioning to the bench.   
The wardrobe was filled with a variety of jackets that had not been part of a matching suit, but Hannibal went for the drawer slightly below eye level - digging to the bottom and pulling out a gray knit sweater, before turning to the drawer unit below the shelf of watches and cufflinks - where he pulled out a black tshirt, some socks, and underwear - piling the items on top of the sweater. “Forest green is your color”, he remarked, pulling the final piece - a pair of sweatpants, out of the bottom drawer.   
“There, that should keep you comfortable. Don’t put it on just yet though” - smiled Hannibal, before setting everything down on the bench behind Will and heading out of the closet.  
He returned momentarily with a fresh bandage and wound wash - “Let me see” he said, motioning to Will’s thigh. Dropping the sheet, Will let the man take a closer look at the previous night's bandage. Hannibal lowered himself to one knee and unwrapped the cuts, he paused for a second before leaning down and planting a small kiss on Will’s thigh - “Do you forgive me?”, he asked - carefully wiping away the dried up blood.   
“I liked it”, muttered Will.   
A smirk played on Hannibal’s face - “Adventurous, are we?”  
“No. I just don’t think you would hurt me in a way that would matter”  
“So what would matter?” - he asked, while replacing the bandage.  
“Hard to say”  
“Hm - alright, get dressed”, said Hannibal, before kissing Will’s forehead and walking out into the bedroom. 

“Hannibal?” - Will called out as he made his way down the stairs.   
“In the kitchen, darling”  
Will smiled when he heard the response, it was such a simple word, but coming from Hannibal - it seemed to mean everything.   
“Ah look at that, you’re ready. Let me put these dishes away and then we can go”  
“I- I fixed the, the frame”, said Will - pointing to the stairs with his thumb.  
“Quite a way to redecorate don’t you think?”   
“I would say so - uh yeah” Will chuckled   
“Are you feeling alright? You seem… anxious”  
“Uh yeah, I-I’m fine… guess I’m just still tired, and everything hurts”  
Hannibal put the final plate into the cabinet and walked over to Will - grabbing his face with both hands, and gently running his thumbs along his cheeks. Will’s hand found its way to Hannibal’s - “I can live with that”, he muttered, before stepping closer and leaning on the man’s chest. Hannibal lightly ran small circles on Will’s back with his fingers, holding him close - “You are captivating”, he whispered. 

The air still had a particular freshness about it - the kind only noticeable after intense rain. Rain was Will’s favorite type of weather - he often went out when it poured, sometimes he’d simply walk until his shoes filled with water, other times he’d lay in the road and stare up at the sky. Staring at the sky was like a reset button, he didn’t do it often, mostly because he forgot to. Seeing the blankness meant being insignificant - so much for someone trapped in their own mind. Around Hannibal, Will felt the same tranquility as when he stared at the sky. As if no matter where he went or what he did, Hannibal would always know - just as no matter where he ran, he would always be beneath the sky. 

The sidewalk had gathered a considerable amount of water throughout the night, leaving tiny rivers to stream beneath the curb. Will’s eyes stung from the harshness of the light, and he squinted as he made his way to the car. Hannibal locked the door behind himself and followed in the man’s footsteps, his shoes slapping against the wet pavement. It was colder inside the car than it was outside, although perhaps closed spaces always alter one’s reality. Hannibal drove with his hand on Will’s thigh - at first Will held onto the man’s hand, but it eventually slipped away as he drifted off to sleep.   
11:13AM - the barking of the dogs woke Will up as Hannibal pulled into the driveway.   
“Well good morning again”   
Will looked around, slightly confused “Here already?”   
“You’ve been asleep for a while”  
“Mm okay, come on - let’s get inside”

“Hi guys! Come on, go out!” - the dogs ran into the yard, some stopping to sniff Hannibal.  
“They like you”, smiled Will.  
“Yes, perhaps they do”  
“Okay you go on upstairs, I’ll take care of these guys and I’ll be right up” - called Will, making his way to the kitchen to find the dog food.

“They’ll be down there for a while”  
“Come here” - quietly said Hannibal, nodding to the spot next to him   
Will climbed into bed, resting his head on the man’s chest, and draping his arm around his torso - taking a deep breath of relief.  
“You seem… frantic”  
“I’m sorry, just getting pulled in so many directions - don’t really know what’s going on anymore”  
“Nothing is going on for now, go to sleep. I’ve got you” - whispered Hannibal, his fingers combing through Will’s curls.  
The man wanted to resist but that familiar tranquility washed over him, and soon he was asleep. Hannibal held him close and hummed a tune until eventually the weight of his eyelids betrayed him.


	3. Eat Your Heart Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will finds himself wondering which aspects of his memory he can trust. The one thing he is sure of is that Jack is looking for the Ripper in all the wrong places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of Valentines chapter! I know I’m late but ahh. Okay this is a long on, have fun :)

The sun had set a long time ago, and now the chilly evening air made the curtains dance to a silent symphony. Will turned over in bed, his hand feeling the fabric next to him. By no means was he awake, just...looking. He had forgotten what it was like to not be afraid of his own dreams, and with that came the fact that he lost track of the last time he had an ounce of peaceful rest. For some reason though, falling asleep next to Hannibal allowed him to avoid the nightmares - avoid the death that lurked in the dark. His mind wasn’t a safe place, and he knew that, but ignoring this intuition was the only path to being needed. That’s it. He had to be needed above anything else.   
Tap….tap...tap — the wind knocked at the downstairs windows. And then it began - the house quickly filled with the protective howl of the dogs, as if warning Will of the unavoidable danger outside of the walls. He shot up with a loud gasp, looking around quickly - to see what was going on. Upon realizing everything had seemed fine, Will took a breath of relief. He felt the sheet next to him, attempting to find Hannibal, but his hand just slid through the thin air. “Hannibal?” - he asked, looking over the room. Everything was dark but the glow of the moon supplied just enough light to show the outlines of the furniture. Carefully, Will got up and stumbled to the light switch. The artificial orange luminance was painful for a moment, but quickly became bearable as Will’s eyes adjusted. He was alone. “Hannibal?” - he asked once more, looking out into the hallway. No response.   
Creaky stairs are supposed to communicate the atmosphere of unease - or at least that’s what Will’s junior year English teacher had told him. Although he’d always considered them comforting instead. Something about being able to tell when someone is moving about the house. He was light on his feet as he made his way downstairs, the only light guiding his step was that coming from his bedroom. “Hannibal?” - he called into the darkness, the only thing he heard back was the jingle of the dogs collars as they ran to him. Will was the only person in the house. Had he imagined all of it? That’s not a question he’d enjoyed asking himself recently. The possible answers frightened him - but he decided it was best to ignore them.   
After feeding the dogs their dinner, he made his way back up to his room. The pain of the night before was still very evident, but Will wondered if he could trust that to be real. Would it be so out of the ordinary if he did hallucinate it all? He didn’t know what to trust. Maybe he would go to Hannibal in the morning - see if he would tell. For now he fell back on his pillow and allowed the cold February air to pull him back to sleep.  
On most nights Will would toss and turn, waking up multiple times, it was never a pleasant experience. However this time around he was woken up by the buzz of his phone on the nightstand. His hand grabbed at the light until he was able to get a grip - the caller ID read ‘Jack Crawford’.   
“Hello? What’s going on? Uh...hold on…yeah. Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there in 45. Okay, yeah.”   
The display read 1:23AM.

“Get in here, come on” - Jack waved Will through the entrance of the hotel.  
“Why do you need me here at two in the morning?”  
“It’s the Ripper”  
“The Ripper?”  
“Yes, that’s what I said. Now come on, we don’t have all day”

There was a group of police officers stood before the door of the hotel room, “Has anybody touched the body?” - Jack’s voice boomed as he walked through. Beverly’s head shot up from an evidence marker on the ground - “I touched the body. It’s pretty brutal. Surgery was performed, and then unperformed”  
“Unperformed with bare hands. Sutures clawed open” - interrupted Zeller. Will’s eyes darted back and forth about the blood spatter on the ground, Jack’s expression shifted. “I might have touched the body…” - whispered Zee.   
The spatter trailed around the whole room, but it almost seemed to have a place to be. Jack walked over to the bathroom, Will followed - still trying to piece together a pattern from the blood. A man sat in the bathtub, leaned up against the wall. His once white t-shirt was soaked in blood, and there was a big rip in the cloth, stretching from the bottom seam, all the way up to the collar. Will looked down at the scene - as if trying to convince himself that what he was looking at was just a picture. He’s done that often - tried to look at the corpses as if they were simply playing on the TV. Strangely enough, that did help, not by much - but it did.   
“Alright, everybody out” commanded Jack, ushering everyone out of the room to let Will be alone.   
Back and forth swung the beam, and now the door of the hotel opened to an undisturbed room - except one thing. A man stumbled across the floor, bleeding. Making large strides, Will ran up on him and shoved him into the wall, the man fought back but his attempts were futile. Will struggled but eventually forced the man into the bathroom, tripping him into the bathtub. Confusion played on his face when he realized that the man was no longer breathing. He looked down, a scalpel in his hand. Without thinking of the decision, he ripped the shirt and made a gash at the man’s side, pulling his ribs apart and grabbing a hold of his heart - internal cardiac massage.   
“Jack” - Will called out, opening his eyes.   
“So?”  
“He was trying to save his life, would the Ripper do that?”  
Jack was silent as he walked over to the tub, Will sat down on the toilet.   
“Are you sure?”  
“More or less”  
“Tell me why you’re sure”  
“The Ripper sat a man in a church pew and used his tongue as a page marker in the Bible. This wasn’t that. Just a medical student trying to make a few extra bucks in a back alley surgery that went wrong…terribly wrong”  
Jack was quiet.  
“You’re going to catch him...eventually. Not here”  
“Well that’s not good enough!” - yelled Jack.  
“This isn’t the Ripper. The similarities are circumstantial at best. The Ripper… he wouldn’t want for this to be his — be his design, Jack”  
“How do you see him?”  
Will thought for a moment - “I see him… as one of those pitiful things, sometimes born in hospitals. They feed it, keep it warm - but they don’t put it on the machines. They just… leave it to die. But — he doesn’t die. He looks normal. And nobody knows who he really is”

What Will had said was true, but there was a lot he had left out. He had a fascination with the Ripper, but it wasn’t professional - it was primal. The Ripper was a beast - the kind you spend months stalking in the thick of the woods, and when you kill it - if you ever do, you feel like you’ve lost an old friend. When Will had imagined holding the corpse’s heart - he had felt the overwhelming warmth of the blood, and he could feel his fingers tremble as the heart produced one rapid beat after another. It felt different than the Ripper - it was messy and spontaneous. The Ripper was meticulous, he was an artist. A gruesome canvas it was, but a canvas nonetheless. And Will carried a shameful admiration for the images that the Ripper was able to construct. It required a vision, and many skills. He had understood that, just as with an animal, there was a person behind the beast. So who was the person? He was careful, he was purposeful. He wanted an outcome. This was not the same - it felt like a laughable caricature of the Ripper, he would not disrespect his work like this. Will still felt the desperate beating of the heart in his hand - it was looking for something. What was he looking for? What was the Ripper looking for? There was a purpose, there had to be a purpose. What was the purpose? 

What was left of the night, Will spent in bed, phasing in and out of sleep. He saw the heart - he heard it. Hannibal. He needed that heart beat at his side to sleep. He needed Hannibal. 8:37 AM. They were supposed to have a session today.

“Do you usually drink with patients?” - Will walked over to his armchair.  
“She was drinking with a patient, and I assure you - it is very common. Especially for… evening sessions”, replied Hannibal, handing a glass to Will.  
‘She?’ - he thought to himself, “Thank you. How long have you been seeing a psychiatrist?”  
“Since I chose to be a psychiatrist”  
“Hm”  
“Tell me, what is clouding your mind?”  
“Jack thinks the Ripper is back” - Will stood up, pacing by his seat.  
“Do you?”  
“No, it’s not the same guy”  
“Has it ever been - the same guy?”  
“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know. This isn’t like the Ripper, it’s out of character”  
“How so?”  
“The Ripper… he’s a — he’s an artist. This was sloppy. I mean slashing a man’s chest open to massage his heart? No”  
“So why does Jack think it is the Chesapeake Ripper?”  
“Trophies seem to have been taken. Kidneys. Everyone thinks there are a lot of similarities, but I don’t see it”  
“Valuable organs, are they not?”  
“Organ harvesters? I mean it’s not entirely impossible, but I just….organ harvesters disguising their operation as the work of a serial killer?”  
“It would look like a possibility, wouldn’t it?”  
“Yeah…”, he walked over to the window - “I wanted to ask you something”  
“What would you like to know?”  
Will was silent, looking out onto the street through the sheer curtains. He debated over proceeding with his request. Did he actually want to get himself into this mess if he had just dreamt or hallucinated everything? He could feel Hannibal’s gaze fixed on him. Maybe it was best not to. “No, nevermind…”, he spoke quietly, walking back to his chair to sit down.   
“You know you may ask me anything”  
“Yes, yes I do. Maybe not quite yet”  
“Do you find yourself wondering about the possibility of life outside of this often?”  
“This?”  
“Jack. The force. The… Ripper?”  
“I don’t think about the outside. It’s mocking me”  
“How so?”  
“I don’t want to be this. But I will, because here is where they need me”  
“Do you desire to be needed?”  
“Yes”  
“What do you think of what you see when Jack calls you?”  
“I’ve grown numb to it. It’s not the image … it’s the —- reenactment. As if I can see the fear grow in these people’s eyes as I imagine taking their life. And the sheen of the whites of their eyes is always the same. I don’t understand where it’s taking me. I just know that it’s… terrifying”  
“Do you fear hurting another?”  
“No… no, uh. I fear liking hurting another”  
“Do you like the fear in their eyes, Will?”  
He was quiet - his leg shook, “yes”.  
“Tell me why”  
“It…it makes me feel - makes me feel powerful? Like I control their fate, like they belong to me”  
“Fate can not be controlled, as it would no longer be fate - but instead, decision. Holding the key to another’s life can be… establishing”  
“What does it establish, doctor?” - Will tilted his head, a curious, accusatory smirk playing on his lips.  
“Perhaps I’ve overstepped my bounds”  
“No, continue”  
“What is it that you hope I will say?”  
“There is something telling me you too like power, do you not?”  
“I think everyone desires power, to one degree or another. What kind of power do you desire?”  
“I could ask you just the same” - Will leaned forward, placing his elbows down on his knees.  
“You did not answer my question”  
“I desire to have control of myself… but since that has not been panning out for me, control of another does suffice”  
“What would help you control yourself?”  
“I’m not so sure I want to anymore. Where do you stand on chaos?”  
“Chaos is essential to life. Trying to control everything all the time rarely leads to your desired… outcome. Often the best thing one can do is let go. That doesn’t mean one can not be careful, but there is a great deal of relief that comes with understanding that relinquishing control will lead you to the place you need to be”  
“Have you… relinquished control?”  
“I am terrible at taking my own advice”  
“Really?”  
“Yes. Although I’ve learned that when you repeat something enough, you will start to believe it”  
“What have you started to believe?”  
“That perhaps there is more to the inside than I had anticipated”  
“You wanted to know if I think of what lies beyond this. I do. But it’s not that two dimensional, is it? ‘The Outside’ is beginning to sound like a mystical… wonderland. I don’t think there will ever be getting away from this. It’s like the past and the future don’t exist. It’s just now - forever”  
“Where does the difference between the past and the future come from?”  
“What you allow yourself to be. I don’t like the concept of time, yet it seems like that’s the only thing I think of anymore. So many numbers that should mean so little but symbolize something so grand. I don’t remember much of the past, and I think maybe that’s for the best. But I also don’t particularly see the future, and when I do… I’m not sure I want to actually witness it. The difference between the past and the future is what I just said, and what I will say the next moment. It’s ever changing - I don’t believe much in destiny, I think there are too many things that could change at any moment to fully piece together a timeline that would function”  
“Why do you despise time?”  
“I’m… I don’t know, uh. I don’t despise time itself, I suppose. It’s more that I don’t understand it, which is infuriating because it’s such a simple concept so why is it one of the only things I get stuck on? It makes me feel stupid. And even if I understood it, I wouldn’t have enough of it”  
“I believe it’s very much the opposite of a simple concept. In fact it seems to weigh on the more complex things I’ve studied. Time is strange, and inconsistent, it’s a pure representation of the concept of chaos. I find that time is best left ignored”  
“How do you ignore… time?”  
“By paying excruciating attention to it”  
“What? That doesn’t make any sense”  
“Time is a vast ocean, and the ocean has a tendency to produce waves. Waves that either wash up on the shore or have the potential to take down whole buildings. By paying attention to the wave, you will watch as it crashes down, still many feet away - and washes up. The world sweeps you away when you are not looking. Time sweeps you away when you are not looking. Paying attention can make all the difference, and give you the power to ignore the implications of time. The only aspect of time that serves you is the control it gives you over what you are able to do in a certain frame of… existence. Let it be just that”

That night Will would stare at the ceiling a little longer than usual. He thought over the things Hannibal had said to him, had asked him. There was still not much that told him of which memories had truth behind them. He felt pathetic - unable to even trust his mind enough to tell him what he’d done the other day. There it was again - time, just sweeping him away. The passage of phases of existence didn’t bother him, but the certainty of the numbers did. Was time really the problem, or was it that Will couldn’t understand the concept as it was applied by those around him? Hannibal was right - time was an ocean, and Will was very much drowning. His nightmares often filled with water, he wasn’t sure where it came from, or where it went, but it held him tightly.

He ran. Ran ahead into nothingness. He ran and his lungs stung, as if someone had been using them as a pin cushion. He looked around - and all he saw was black. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Will was fond of small spaces, they were comforting - like when he would hide under his bed as a child so that when someone came looking, he would be invisible. This place was nothing like that - he was hunted, yet there wasn’t a place to take cover. Everything for miles on end was simply empty, and no matter how far he ran, the only place he would ever get was right back where he started. His insides were flipping inside out and his head spun. His feet were heavy on the salt water. If he wanted to survive, he had to run.   
The weight of his sobs was too heavy for his knees, they trembled - giving up, and leaving him to fall. The ground was harsh on his skin and the salt stung at the fresh scrapes as the water around him grew red. There was nothing left to give. The water began rising, enveloping his body - drowning him. 

Will shot up in bed, gasping for air. His hair and shirt were soaked in sweat. This had become a relatively normal way for him to wake up. 6:17AM. He wondered what it would be like to sleep through the night, remembering how easy it was to rest with Hannibal by his side. 

“Not only did the Ripper take his kidney, he also took his heart! Which you recall he tried to do in the hotel room before he was interrupted!” - Zeller waved his hands over the corpse on the table. Will looked over the file, and over the body. Although the whole lab was against him, he was not convinced.   
“The Ripper wasn’t painting a picture in the hotel. Someone else was”  
“You still think he was ripping out a heart to save a life?” - every word came out of Zeller’s mouth sounding as if he had asked Will if he thought 2+2 equaled 5.   
“Yes I do” - Will’s tone was flat, although the expression playing on his face closer matched the feeling of being caught in a lie. Beverly handed Will a photo - “The Ripper painted this picture for sure, in big, broad strokes”. The image Will held depicted a man - torn in half, and sat in a bus seat, across the aisle from himself. He sighed - dropping his hands, “Could both of these victim’s organs have been harvested for transplant?”  
Price nodded - “You could put the organs on a ventilator long enough to coordinate the donation”. Zee and Beverly both agreed that the organs were removed in a surgical manner, allowing them to be reconnected later on.   
“Were all the Ripper victim organs taken in a way that would allow them to be reconnected?” - asked Will, momentarily lifting his glasses to rub his eye.  
“It’s inconclusive due to the degree of mutilation, but yes, it would look like it. That is how the Ripper reaps” - replied Zeller, looking over to Beverly.  
“Two killers, same agenda!” - her face lit up.  
Price looked confused - “So organ harvesters disguising their work as a serial killer. Or a serial killer, disguising his work as the work of organ harvesters?”  
Will put down the papers he was holding - “The Chesapeake Ripper wants to perform. Every….brutal… choice has - has elegance”, he spit. He’d always hated admitting to seeing the Ripper’s art, because he knew that was exactly what the Ripper had wanted. “Grace…” - he sighed, “His mutilations hide the true nature of his crimes”.

The Chesapeake Ripper did not seek fame - he sought recognition. He cared more for the quality of the attention he would receive, not the quantity. Admirable in an artist - vile in a killer. Although, an artist is precisely what he considered himself - after all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. To think like the Ripper was to see the contrast of the gruesome nature of the crimes - with the beauty of the image constructed. Will was right - the Ripper had a purpose. A purpose that maybe even he wasn’t entirely sure of. He worked on every ‘piece’ as if it would be his first, and last one. There was precision, there was dedication… there was hunger. 

Hannibal sat alone in his office, holding a glass of whiskey, as he stared into the fireplace. He’d always enjoyed fire - but understood it was dangerous to play with, because each time that he stared into the flames, he imagined reaching in. He wondered what it would feel like to burn alive. He wondered what would happen if he let his hand go where it wanted to - into the flames. He wouldn’t, but it posed a curious prospect. Whiskey was a thing he did not thoroughly enjoy though. His office had a cabinet full of sealed bottles given to him by patients, he never quite understood what about him made people assume he favored whiskey. Wine was much better preferred. Now Hannibal sat, sipping at his glass, and thought about leaving Will that night. He could’ve stayed - let Will wake up, still having him by his side, and he wanted to. But he was curious to see what would happen if he left. Will hadn’t brought anything up, had he been afraid? Hannibal paid close attention to Will’s fears, and despite how much he wanted to convince the people around him otherwise - he had a lot. Will’s fears were… amusing - for the lack of a better word. With each day Hannibal found himself growing more intrigued. He knew his purpose — but what was Will’s?

The next day Will spent most of his time wallowing in anger. Why did no one want to believe him? He knew the Ripper, perhaps more than he wanted to admit. None of this was the same, he was almost offended on the Ripper’s behalf, that anyone would think the bathtub slaughter was anything like the….craft. He was due for a session with Hannibal tonight - 7:30PM. 5 hours to go. Time betrayed him yet again.  
All day he taught class as normal, although there was a strange feeling looming over him. As if nothing he was experiencing could be real - like at any moment he would jerk awake, drenched in sweat, in his bed. Maybe that would be the case, but he didn’t want to risk it. He didn’t need the academy to be worried about him, he was doing enough of that on his own.  
When everyone cleared out for the day, Will was left sitting at his desk in an empty classroom. He shuffled through a pile of papers trying to find something but it was like his eyes wouldn’t focus. Everything around him seemed to blur - similar to the image of flashing light spots that people see when they are about to faint. He shut his eyes tightly, shaking his head, trying to pull himself back together. But when he opened them, he was in a place he did not recognize. He wasn’t confused, but he didn’t know how he got there. It seemed odd, but he did not remember falling asleep, or being in his class. He only remembered that he wasn’t here, and then he was. 

The sky overhead was glum, and it looked as if someone played a sped up recording of the clouds. The trees seemed dead, their branches reaching for Will. He sat across from Abigail - a corpse mounted on a deer head in between them. It was windy, they were in the middle of a field. Abigail’s voice echoed through their surroundings, “It’s better that it’s just the two of us” - she smiled. Will just stared ahead.   
“Dad?” - she called out.   
“Yes”   
“I think someone else is here” - her voice was frightened.

Hannibal walked through the door of the class, “Will?” - he called. No response. “Will?”. Finally he seemed to come out of the trance, Hannibal moved forward, stopping at the edge of the table - “I have a 24 hour cancellation policy”.  
Confusion took over Will’s features - “What time is it?”  
“Nearly nine o’clock”  
“Oh… I’m sorry”, he said, burying his face in the palms of his hands as he leaned over the table.  
Hannibal moved aside and took a few steps forward until he stood beside Will - “No apologies necessary”.  
“I must have fallen asleep”, he said, still coming out of the haze, “Was I sleepwalking?”  
“Your eyes were open, but you weren’t entirely there. Has this happened before?”  
“Uh- no? No, I don’t think so”  
“Will, what did you see?”  
“It’s- it’s not important. I’m fine”  
“It does not look like you are … fine”  
“Hannibal, please” - he almost sounded annoyed.  
Dismissing the tone, a hint of a smile played on Hannibal’s face, he did enjoy hearing Will say please. A polite boy he was. Moving these thoughts aside, Hannibal looked over the photos scattered across Will’s desk. Crime scene forensic photography. Will seemed intrigued by Hannibal’s interest - “What do you see, doctor?”  
“Sum up the Ripper in so many words?”  
“Choose them wisely” - said Will, standing up and walking over to where Hannibal had ventured, stopping dangerously close.   
“Oh I always do. Words are living things, they have personality… a point of view”  
Will wasn’t entirely listening to what Hannibal was saying, most of his thoughts were consumed by warring questions. Where had he just gone? Why had Hannibal come looking for him? Did he fuck Hannibal? What would happen if he reached out right now? Hannibal was right in front of him. Finally close enough to touch. Why wouldn’t he reach? Maybe these questions would best be thought at another time - he forced himself back into reality, realizing he had only been gone a moment.  
“Agenda” - Hannibal’s voice was soft as he picked up one of the photos.  
“They’re pack hunters” - said Will, tracing Hannibal’s features with his gaze. He smiled at the comment he managed to make, he felt it would earn Hannibal’s appreciation.  
“Displaying one’s enemy after death has its appeal in many cultures”  
Slight disappointment dropped Will’s expression, he leaned on the table - his arms supporting him, “These aren’t the Ripper’s enemies. These are pests… that he’s swatted”.  
Hannibal was taken aback by this observation - most had been caught up in the meaning behind the choice of the victims, this was the first time he had heard someone be so indifferent to the canvas, instead focusing on the work itself. He was almost impressed. “Their reward for their cruelty”.  
“Oh he doesn’t have a problem with cruelty” - Will laughed.  
Hannibal did not seem much pleased with this remark, but Will had more to say.  
“Their reward… is for undignified behavior. These desecrations are to disgrace them. It’s a… a public shaming”  
Hannibal smiled - that was more like it. “He takes their organs because in his mind… they don’t deserve them”  
Will nodded, stepping back - “In some way”.  
“Something is bothering you”  
“Oh - I’m just tired, I guess. It’s fine”  
“Will” - Hannibal reached out, grabbing the man by his shoulders.   
“Maybe later” he said, moving away to the other end of the table.  
Hannibal followed, when Jack and Beverly walked through the door.  
“Will, there you are. And Dr. Lecter, what a surprise. We have a lead. Would you care to, uh, help us catch the Ripper?” - Jack was practically beaming, despite the circumstances for his excitement.  
A smirk pulled at the the corners of Hannibal’s lips, and his eyes twinkled with curiosity - “How could I refuse?”

“That ambulance isn’t in rotation. It hasn’t even been out of the shed”   
“Surveillance says it has” - barked Jack, following the man.  
“Well, nodoby’s signed her out. My road sheet’s got her down for repairs”  
“And who signed her in for repairs?” - Jack asked, trying to see where this would go.  
“Devon Silvestri. He’s one of our part time drivers” said the man, after taking a look at his clipboard.  
“Does he want to be a doctor?” - asked Will.  
“He’s taking the MCATs… it was there this morning” - said the man, staring down an empty parking space.  
“Is there tracking on the ambulance?” - asked Beverly.  
“Mhm”  
“Encrypted messaging or remote tracking?”  
“We can’t afford that type of hardware, we use consumer grade”  
“Digital trunk systems. Jack?”  
“Yeah”  
“If the radio is on in the ambulance I can use a DF sweep to find it”  
“Okay, let’s go”  
Hannibal turned to Will - “This is very educational”, he smiled. 

The police lights flashed - serving as one of the only light sources surrounding the ambulance. A team of police officers circled it, Jack rushed to the front - two men pried the ambulance door open on his command. “Show me your hands!” - yelled Jack.   
Sylvesteri looked back and forth, from the man he was operating on, to Jack - “I can’t”.  
“Show me your hands!”   
“I can’t, he’ll die!” - he yelled back.   
Jack sighed, “Doctor!”  
Hannibal looked confused but quickly got on his way - “yes?”  
“Doctor, I need you to assess the situation” - he said, nodding to the ambulance.  
Will made his way over as well, staying close to Hannibal, but stopping when the man got into the ambulance.   
“He was removing his kidney… badly. I can stop the bleeding”  
Jack nodded, “Do it. Mr. Sylvestri you are under arrest!”  
As the team lead Devon away, Will stood still - looking at Hannibal as he performed the operation. That was when it clicked. He hadn’t made up any of it. He remembered Hannibal’s touch. He remembered everything.

“I do suppose I said that office hours were for… patients” - Hannibal smiled, unlocking the door and letting Will through before turning on the lights.   
“Now, why did you ask to come here?”, he asked, putting his jacket on the coat hanger.  
Will was quiet as he walked over to the desk - “Just get over here, would you?”  
Not seeing a reason to argue, Hannibal followed the request. Will smiled - hopping up on the table, Hannibal found this display amusing. Will reached out for the man’s face, pulling him into a long, desperate kiss. He finally felt safe again. Hannibal pulled back, smiling - “Darling, this is a professional place, I told you”.   
“Yes you did” - Will smiled back.   
“Well then, I don’t suppose I can do anything about this now, can I?”  
“Oh no” - he replied, his hand grabbing a hold on the back of Hannibal’s neck, pulling him back in.   
A grin played on Hannibal’s lips - “Happy Valentine’s Day to me”.


End file.
